


Landslide

by thimble



Category: Free!
Genre: Gen, Makoto-centric, implied rinharu, makoto/haru friendship, makoto/rin friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 10:01:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thimble/pseuds/thimble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Two months before they graduate from high school, Makoto decides he's going to move to Tokyo to become a musician.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Landslide

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pennyofthewild](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pennyofthewild/gifts).



> Merry Christmas, Penny ❤️

 

 

It wasn’t always swimming.

Granted, Haru has loved the water longer than he’s known Makoto, and they both grew up next to the ocean so maybe they were meant to end up at the swim club, one way or another.

(Makoto’s earliest memories of Haru were at the beach, a blue-eyed boy with sand in his hair whose smiles came easier than they did now. He used to pick up the starfish Makoto had been too petrified to even touch, and when he threw them at the horizon they both waited to hear the splash.

“They just wash up on the shore,” Haru said, back when his words weren’t so measured. “If you leave them on the sand they’ll dry up in the sun.”

Makoto’s stomach felt like a whirlpool as he wondered how many starfish had died on his watch, just because he was afraid. “They look scary.”

“They won’t hurt you,” Haru said, without a trace of judgment, and Makoto believed him as hard as a four-year old could.)

But it wasn’t always swimming.

 

\-                

 

It hadn’t been so noticeable when they were younger, but when they entered elementary school even Haru’s parents, who were often out of town and usually left him in the care of his grandmother, could tell something was off.

Haru didn’t seem to be making any friends.

Makoto’s affable nature got them by for a while, but though Makoto talked to other kids and other kids talked to him, nobody talked to Haru. They tried, at first, but when it became clear his responses would be few and curt, they stopped, not that Makoto blamed them.

One night he overheard his dad on the phone with Haru’s dad, and on the Saturday that followed he and Haru found themselves at a children’s art workshop. It was the same day they discovered Haru’s talent for drawing. He sketched the cat he and Makoto always played with in the alley between their houses; it took Makoto five weeks to get his drawn horses to stop looking like oversized dogs.

But he made several friends in the class, and Haru made none. After a while he stopped coming to the class—though he would doodle in Makoto’s notebooks all the way to high school—and Makoto did too. There was no point without Haru.

 

-

 

Their next venture had been sports, specifically baseball. They learned that Haru had wonderful hand-eye coordination, and he was fast, scoring the most home runs out of anyone. Makoto couldn’t even swing the bat, too nervous about accidentally hitting someone, so he was happy to warm the benches during games, and even then he seemed to be having more fun than Haru was. Being good at something didn’t mean he enjoyed it, after all.

Eventually he stopped coming to those too, feigning sickness. His parents, unwilling to give up, signed him up for a music class. They asked Makoto himself if he’d like to join; of course, he said yes.

Haru’s parents bought them matching guitars, blue for Haru, green for Makoto, and things finally began to change.

For the wrong kid.

 

-

 

He’d never been very good with his fingers. They used to be clumsy, and their later size didn’t help when he hit his growth spurt. He pricked himself too many times to count when he asked his mom to teach him how to sew, so he could help with clothes repairs around the house; even his attempts at braiding Ran’s hair had both her and Ren laughing at him and telling him to stick with giving piggyback rides, which he was decent at.

(He can’t even cook because it required such precision. Once his parents took the twins for an overnight stay at an onsen and he stayed behind; he was supposed to be studying for a big test but he spent the night trying to cook them dinner for their arrival the next day.

Needless to say, he didn’t get to study at all on account of having to clean up the mess he made of the kitchen.)

It stood to reason that his guitar playing didn’t amount to much at first, but this time Haru’s effortless prowess at everything he tried became an inspiration rather than a deterrent.

Makoto kind of liked how the position of holding the instrument let him hunch into himself, how the world seemed to quiet around him because he was too focused on plucking the right strings to pay attention to anything else. He was cocooned in music, and he liked it, and that made all the difference.

 

-

 

But Haru wasn’t happy, and Makoto knew it. Rather, he realized it, one day at the beach as Haru practically jumped out of his clothes and into the water; he saw it in the absolute peace on his best friend’s face as he floated on his back, soaking up the daylight.

It had always been there, but nobody had been looking.

 

-

 

He didn’t wait for Haru’s parents to suggest it; he signed up for the swim club himself. Haru didn’t have to be asked to follow him, for once, and they were all glad for it. It was the perfect fit.

Haru actually spoke to people, even though he seemed to prefer the company of the pool a little more; he didn’t hesitate to ask the coach questions about improving his form. When tournaments came around he even made his voice loud enough to clarify I only swim free.

Makoto, on the other hand, had only just realized that he was terrified of water, but it was too late to back out, and he cared about Haru too much to ever abandon him. When he swam they called his strokes powerful (panicked), and when he came home his arms felt like limp noodles.

His guitar rested against the wall at the corner of his bedroom and most days he’d be too sore to even pick it up.

 

-

 

When they’re twelve, they met Rin and became entangled with Nagisa, and two things happened: Haru was slowly drawn out of his apathy, and Makoto reacquainted himself with backstroke, which significantly lessened his fear.

Rin was a little demon and a miracle worker all in one; Rin also had a habit of inviting himself over other people’s houses, talking about how restless and bored he got while living with his grandmother in Iwatobi on the weekdays, complaining that they didn’t even have neighbors he could play with.

He charmed the pants off Makoto’s parents and played with the twins until they dropped in exhaustion, ensuring a good night’s sleep. He brushed his teeth with a spare toothbrush and wiggled into borrowed pajamas, plopping onto Makoto’s bed like he owned it.

“Is that Nanase’s place?” he wondered aloud upon seeing the light from the window across Makoto’s. “Why don’t you invite him over?”

“Haru probably already had dinner,” Makoto replied, and opened his mouth to say ‘mackerel’ the same time Rin did, which made them both burst into laughter. They talked about Haru for a bit, about Nagisa, about the swim club and the upcoming relay, but Rin’s gaze was always wandering and it eventually landed on the guitar.

“Do you play?”

“A little,” Makoto offered modestly, not wanting to temper the spark of interest in Rin’s eyes. “Haru’s better than me, even though he doesn’t practice.”

“Haru’s good at everything, huh?” Rin sighed, some longing injected into his tone though he was quick to recover, poking Makoto impatiently. “Play me something!”

Makoto laughed, shaking his head and getting up to bring it over to the bed. He sat and drew it over his lap, suddenly all too aware that he was being watched. He’d never actually played for an audience before, not counting his family, and he and Haru had dropped out before they could do recitals.

“Um, okay. Here goes.”

 

-

 

Rin grinned at him the entire night and all the way to next morning, so wide his cheeks must’ve been killing him.

“So what else are you hiding from us, Tachibana?” 

 

-

 

Then Rin left for Australia, and Makoto and Haru had to leave Nagisa for middle school. It wasn’t so bad. Makoto watched Haru sulk to himself the first few weeks after Rin’s departure, but the quiet transformation he’d undergone post-relay was undeniable.

Haru willingly joined other relays. Haru spoke up in class. Haru smiled.

Until one day in mid-January, when he didn’t.

 

-

 

Naturally, he quit swimming when Haru did. He was reluctant to ask why Haru would give up time in the pool, and downright unwilling to unearth the reason Haru retreated into himself again. He felt like it was his fault, somehow, for not having Nagisa’s energy, or Rin’s sense of adventure. For not being a good enough friend. They were horrible thoughts, but Haru was far too kind to ever say them aloud if they were true anyway. All Makoto had were suspicions, and they were even uglier than his fears.

So he wrote them down to release them, and they flowed, an accidental song.

 

-

 

At least the loneliness urged him to pick up the guitar. He didn’t really have much time to practice; it was only in those blessed hours after the twins had gone to bed and before his parents went to sleep themselves. The twins were a disturbance, albeit curious and adorable ones, and he was too worried about being the disturbance to his parents, who had to wake early the next day.

He didn’t waste the time he was given.

 

-

 

He had just turned fourteen when he bought replacement strings as his first real purchase, a gift to himself, pooled from his allowance money; he only realized a week before that it meant he didn't any savings left for his parents' anniversary present.

What could he do? What could he offer?

He had one idea, of course, the strings were already a huge clue. It was just a matter of whether or not he could pull it off.

He had one week to make it happen.

 

-

 

Makoto was the center of attention in a way he never was except from his usual backstroke event, and even then he was only the second or third tier. Now he was sitting in front of the television set with his family gathered in a semi-circle around him and his guitar. It was just his family, the four people in the world he was most comfortable with, but this wasn't a side of him they've seen before. 

That anyone's ever seen before.

"I wrote this song for Okaa-san and Otou-san." The fingers of his left hand were strangling the neck of the guitar in his nervousness, and he willed those on the right to stay still, so he wouldn't drop the pick. "I hope you like it."

He laughed to calm himself down, and when it seemed like it was enough, he strummed.

When the song drew to a close, he saw his father wiping his eyes behind his lenses, and the twins barely waited for him to put the guitar down before throwing their arms around him on either side. 

"Nii-san's the coolest!"

"He was my nii-san first."

The banter was familiar and he fielded off their praise with just the right amount of affection, but his mother was there too, and she wouldn't let him.

"That was wonderful." Her embrace was warm, and her voice doubly so. "Thank you, Makoto."

He let himself feel a surge of pride at her words. Just this once.

 

-

 

He wrote some more after that. He didn't think he had that many experiences yet, so he used what material he had:

 

the light in his mother's eyes when they hear his father's car in the driveway

the time Ran dropped her popsicle and Ren gave her his half without being asked

how quickly time seemed to pass by if he took notice of the seasons, sakura petals replaced by summer heat replaced by orange leaves replaced by a blanket of snow

horrors he'd rather not think about waiting for him at the bottom of the ocean

relays, and how someone could change if the right person came along

 

He wished he could tell Haru about these things, but he seemed to have his own loneliness to battle. Whatever shifted inside him was for Haru to keep to himself, and share only if he wanted to. All Makoto could do was what Haru allowed, which was to lightly pester him to attending school, or to eat something other than mackerel. He was certain Haru only half-listened whenever he talked.

He wondered if it was his turn to miss their other friends.

He wondered if he had any right to miss Rin at all.

 

-

 

It was kind of ridiculous how everything he'd been yearning for tumbled back into his life, one right after the other. Nagisa led them to Rin, who led them to swimming, even if it did take a while to get there together. Call it providence, call it chance; he didn't question it too much, since that would be like an open invitation to take it away. 

Being captain of the club meant he had more responsibility this time around, so between that and school he was forced to neglect his guitar. It was a sacrifice, but one he was glad to have made because Haru was blooming carefully beside him, teased open by a combination of the water, their friends, and Rin's presence. 

He wasn't ready to be selfish. Not yet.

 

-

 

"You still play, right?" They're the only ones in the locker room and Rin tried to make the remark as offhand as possible, which meant he actually wanted to know. His wide smiles weren't tentative anymore, but he still hesitated sometimes when he was alone with just one of them, as if they could only bear to be with him as a unit. 

("Rin-chan is delicate, like a flower," Nagisa said once, completely straight-faced, while Rei made a crack about Venus flytraps. Haru had been in pool mode, but he did say something before he dived in, something he seemed to know from experience.

"Trusting others isn't half as hard as learning to trust yourself again.")

Makoto offered a smile as he rubbed sunscreen to his arms. "Yeah, Rin. How'd you know?"

"My roommate in Australia did too, and he had callouses all over his fingers, like yours."

"Do you spend much of your time looking at other boys' hands?" He made sure to keep his tone kind, without a trace of mockery, just enough to draw out the color in Rin's cheeks. Makoto had seen the way he looked Haru, and the way Haru looked at Rin. It was a long time coming, as far as he was concerned.

Rin huffed and turned away, a belated attempt to salvage his composure. "You've been hanging around Nagisa too much. That kid's a bad influence."

"That kid's only half a year younger than you, you know."

Rin burned red again at that, and he looked like he was in half a mind to throw his sunscreen bottle at Makoto's head. "Remind me never to ask about your hobbies again."

He didn't mean it, of course. He came over the next day with a flash drive of songs he wanted Makoto to listen to, and he glanced out the window to catch the hint of life in Haru's house, just like old times.

 

-

 

Their last year arrived faster than anyone thought it would. Rin didn't need to be asked, and Haru staying in the club was a given; Makoto did too, on account of being captain, though he's well-aware that Gou could handle it on her own. 

When asked by his peers and teachers where he planned to attend university, he didn't think twice about naming some top choices in Tokyo. He could do well in business or accounting if he tried; maybe even literature, since he's already decent at it. 

He sent out applications. Haru didn't.

 

-

 

"You're going to follow Rin, right?" 

They're washing dishes after a quick dinner at Haru's, with plans to do their homework after. Haru didn't reply right away, but when he did it was soft, muted.

"He wants me to." Haru was smiling at his English notes, his mind obviously somewhere else, but there was a conviction all over his features that Makoto envied. Since when did Haru start looking so grown up? "I want to, too."

"Don't forget us little people when you're both bigshot Olympians, okay?" He meant it as a joke, but Haru rolled his eyes like he was an idiot for even considering it. They both returned to their homework, content with the silence; Makoto didn't expect Haru to be the one to break it again.

"You're going into music, aren't you?" 

Makoto blinked, and his pulse picked up. "What made you think so?"

"It makes you happy," Haru went on, doodling in the corner of his notebook. "It'd be stupid not to follow what makes you happy."

Makoto learned more about Haru and Rin, and himself in that moment than he had in the past few months. The option had always been there, but he never seriously considered it, afraid it might make it hurt worse if it didn't come true.

Too late now. His future was suddenly split into two paths and it was nothing short of terrifying.

"Your lyrics are beautiful and your voice carries. You can do it." He didn't know Haru had been listening all this time; that was probably why Haru went through the trouble of telling him.

(He had to admit, it was exhilirating too.)

 

-

 

The day he got his first acceptance letter to a university he won't attend was the day he told the club.

"Mako-chan's going to be a rock star!"

"Are you sure, Makoto-senpai?" Rei's going to have premature worry lines if he kept frowning like that, a funny juxtaposition from Nagisa's loud cheering. 

Makoto smiled reassuringly, and no one else was better at that than him. "I'm sure, Rei."

Haru didn't say much during the rest of practice, and he only gave Makoto a look as they were walking home. Makoto understood.

 

-

 

Rin laughed and tossed him a Pocari, elbowing him in the side as they sat down on one of Samezuka's benches.

"You're always so full of surprises, Tachibana."

"I learned from the best, RinRin."

 

-

 

Makoto had an entire speech in his head for his parents (and the hope that he wouldn't break down sobbing at the first sign of disappointment in their eyes, if it ever came):

 

Rin and Haru were bound for Tokyo to continue their Olympic training

he was to stay with them until he saved up enough to move into his own place

he'd take up odd jobs - doing errands and carrying heavy things had never been difficult for him

he'd have his guitar with him, and all the songs he'd written

when he has money to live by and some leftover he was going to rent some equipment

he'd send out his recordings to agents and music companies

he'd play gigs in bars and cafes - if they let him

he was going to be okay

 

The last one was what he sang to himself in his head as Okaa-san and Otou-san sat down and turned their expectant gazes towards him, a melody of his own composition.

_I'm going to be okay._

**Author's Note:**

> please comment if you're inclined :)


End file.
